


Do Not Disturb

by threeparts



Series: Heralds of Change [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Lube, NSFW, Oral Sex, PWP, Post-Apocalypse, Size Difference, Size Kink, Submission, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeparts/pseuds/threeparts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching The Iron Bull fight gets Feniradel all hot and bothered, but privacy is hard to come by when demons are stalking the streets. When the two of them overcome that little difficulty, they can really get down to investigating this interesting new development.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Disturb

**Author's Note:**

> A modern AU, yeah, but we're all here for the sex anyway. The additional details can be safely ignored. Takes place a few weeks after Collisions. I actually wrote this at the end of 2014 (literally, I finished it to the sound of New Year fireworks), but haven't posted it anywhere before now.

As Bull slammed his sledgehammer into the shade again, Feniradel sighted on the wraith far behind the rift, energy gathering in its hands as it prepared a spell. She fired, yanked the rifle's bolt back and forth and fired again, the bullets tearing through the green wisp one after another. The enchantment caught hold with a muffled _whomp_ , and the wraith burst into flames visible even in the afternoon sunlight, the familiar wail no longer a distraction as Fen sighted on another demon. Bull was yards ahead of her, focusing on his own enemy and presenting an easy target to any of the demons at range, but sitting in the back picking off the bastards that didn't see her as a threat was Fen's favourite position. She quickly brought the second wraith down, easily sidestepping the ball of energy it managed to get off before its form collapsed in on itself just as Bull finished off the shade with another vicious blow and a whoop of pleasure.

She reloaded as he scanned the area, now seemingly free of demons, and turned to her to give the all clear. She glanced up, ears pricked, when she heard a shout instead, and then he was _running_ at her, roaring, “Get _down_ ”. She didn't hesitate, throwing herself to the asphalt moments before a fireball sizzled overhead. It hit a building on the opposite side of the street in a burst of orange flames and greasy black smoke, and Fen hissed a curse. Fireballs meant one of two things, and neither option was appealing.

Bull barrelled past her, hammer already pulled back for a swing, and she rolled aside, readying her rifle for a shot even as she sat up. She couldn't see what it was that had thrown the fireball from her position on the ground, but Bull was on the sidewalk now, swinging at something on the other side of a long brick planter on the curb. She climbed warily to her feet, skinned knees stinging, and felt a surge of relief when she realised it was a rage demon and not an apostate. Demons she didn't mind killing, but their occasional run ins with people—even shems—that wouldn't be talked down left her conscience itching.

She couldn't get a shot from this angle; Bull was too close, his back to her. She took a few quick strides forward and leapt onto the edge of the planter, crushing the marigolds still in bloom as she sidestepped away from the fight. Now at an angle where she could get shots off on the demon's undefended flank without worrying about hitting Bull, she raised her rifle and fired at the creature who was trying to claw at the Qunari. Swearing again as she felt the stock kick sharply back into her shoulder, Fen repositioned the rifle before firing a second time, bullet tearing through the demon's side. The enchantment would be no good against a creature that was basically _made_ of fire, but at least the physical damage from the two of them was wearing it down. Bull deflected a swipe with the shaft of the hammer before swinging again, his whole body twisting into the motion, his broad shoulders and powerful arms turning the swing into a massive, crushing blow that tore through the demon's form. It was very nearly distracting, Feniradel mused as she shot again. Becoming desperate, the demon tried another fireball, which could have been devastating at such close range, but Bull dodged it with a nimbleness that belied his size, before turning the sidestep into another full swing, the twisting of his hips giving the blow even more power.

Watching him move, Fen held back her next shot, making sure Bull was clear. And, well, maybe the way he fought was a _little_ distracting, she admitted to herself as she refocused on the enemy.

Fen fired one last time—the demon was nearly done, its movements sluggish as it began to lose its shape. Bull shifted his grip, one hand sliding up the handle to the head of the sledgehammer, and rammed the end of the shaft hard into the demon's crude mimicry of a face. It was more than enough to send the creature sinking back down through the sidewalk with a bubbling hiss, leaving a scorch mark and a smear of oily goop behind.

This time both Bull and Fen turned to scan the area for anything that might have decided to take their distraction as an invitation. The fight had been a quick one, for all that it seemed to last for long minutes when it was happening. After a moment they each gave the all clear; nothing in sight but the rift, less bright now that there were no demons nearby drawing energy from the Fade.

  


“Sorry,” Fen said guiltily, as they turned back to each other. “That was so stupid, I wasn't looking—”

“Not your fault,” Bull said, hefting the sledgehammer onto his shoulder. “I saw it coming out of the ground, you wouldn't have spotted it before me anyway.”

“I _hate_ knowing they can creep up on me like that,” she said, bending to lay her rifle down on the edge of the retainer and rubbing the ache in her shoulder from the gun's recoil.

“You and me both. Are you all right?” he asked, coming to where she still stood in the flowerbed. “That fireball was pretty close.”

With Feniradel standing on the wall their heads were almost level, and for once she didn't have to look up to smile at him. “I'm good. If you hadn't yelled I'd be toast, but I'm good.”

“You know I've got your back, Fen.” he said, leaning the sledgehammer on the ground and stretching his arms out in front of him, hands clasped. One elbow gave an audible click as his arms flexed and he gave it a few twists.

“Iron Bull, the demon slayer,” she said dramatically, clapping him on the shoulder, and he grinned back at her, his eye even greener in the rift light, his broad smile just as scarred and just as genuine as the rest of him.

Without stopping to think, Fen slid her arm up and around his thick neck and leaned forward to press her lips against his. It was a celebratory kiss, a victory kiss, but as she pulled back a moment later, she knew it was also a 'I've been wanting to do that for a while and I _really_ hope you don't hate me for it' kiss.

That was apparently the last thing on Bull's mind as he cocked an eyebrow at Fen, his smile unfaltering, and slung an arm around her to pull her in for a much firmer, longer kiss. His lips were soft, even with the scarring to one side, and moved against hers without any hesitation or reluctance. She made a small, relieved noise as she responded eagerly, both arms around his neck now, almost losing her balance as she leaned into the kiss. He steadied her, both hands moving to her waist. They pulled back to breathe after a long moment, but they only had to glance at each other's faces before they were both moving back in, lips parting and tongues meeting, tentatively as they first tasted each other and then with growing fervour. Fen realised she was leaning hard against him, her breasts mashed against his broad chest, but he didn't seem to mind. His hands on her waist slipped down to cup her ass through her short cut-offs, pulling the rest of her against him. He squeezed and she moaned into his mouth, and she could feel his lips curl into a smile against her own. His tongue explored her mouth for a few moments more before retreating, and he sucked at her bottom lip before tugging it gently with his teeth. He went to pull away from her, but Fen's arms were clasped around his neck and she leant forward to catch the corner of his mouth in a kiss, then—with better aim—meeting his lips again, not wanting it to be over so soon. It was Bull's turn to make a noise this time, something growly and indistinct in his throat as he enthusiastically responded, and then his hands on her ass were slipping down to her thighs and lifting her off her feet, pulling her close. Her legs parted to accommodate his broad waist and she clutched at his neck lest she lose her balance.

Fen felt him step away from the low wall, but didn't care enough to pull out of the heated kiss to see where he was going. His hands held her tight, her crotch almost brushing against his belly, and it was all she could do not to try and pull herself closer to the giant Qunari. She needn't have worried, as moments later she felt her back being gently pressed against a stone wall and he pushed forward against her, holding her up with the pressure of his body as much as his hands gripping her thighs. She gasped, hands curling into the stubble at the nape of his neck and her hips rolling back against him. He growled again, and pulled his mouth away before pressing a quick kiss to her lips and turning his attention to her jaw and neck. He kissed and licked his way across the sensitive dips of her throat, twisting his head to allow for his horns, and she encouraged him with incoherent murmurs and a hand caressing the back of his head, the other clutching at his broad shoulder. He was grinding against her now, and her legs ached pleasantly from being spread so wide while she felt the heat building low in her belly.

When he ran his tongue up the edge of her ear, it was all she could do to let out a low moan and bury her face against his shoulder, her fingers digging into him. His hands shifted to hold and squeeze her ass, and she could feel his long fingers tantalisingly close to where they would feel so much _better_ , and when he licked along her ear again and began to suck at her earlobe, teasing one of her studs with his tongue, she gasped, pushing back at him and whispering “Please, oh, _please_.” Moments later his lips were back on hers, muffling her gasps, kissing her fiercely. His mouth stayed on her for several more minutes, kissing, sucking and gently biting, but his hands didn't move and it was all she could do not to just beg him to _touch_ her, _please_.

  


And then Bull really _was_ pulling back, a regretful look on his face as he disentangled her hands and lowered her down to the ground. She was confused for a moment, wondering what he was going to do next, but more aroused than she had been in months. When he sighed and turned away, saying, “We should probably head back to base,” she stared at him in shock, then exclaimed, louder than she intended, _“_ _What?”_

“It's getting late and we're still a few miles away. Fighting demons in the dark isn't exactly my idea of fun.” He'd walked back over to the planter and lifted his sledgehammer back over his shoulder, then grabbed her rifle and held it out to her. Fen still stood where he'd put her down, her back to the wall, legs shaky.

“Fen. Come on. We need to go,” Bull urged her, and she finally willed herself to move. She took the rifle automatically, slinging the strap over her shoulder, still staring at him.

“We're just going _back to base?”_ she asked, disbelief in every syllable.

“Yeah. We need to get the supplies back,” he said, moving to the two boxes of stuff they'd dumped on the ground before engaging the demons around the rift. “And you,” he added, lifting a box full of tins and packaged food and tucking it under his free arm, “need some time to cool off.”

“Cool off?” she asked, surprise turning to annoyance. “I don't want to _cool off_ , I want to–”

“You need to think about it first,” he interrupted, voice calm as he nudged the other box over to her with his foot.

She bent and lifted it, easily hefting the cardboard container of toilet paper, antiseptic, painkillers and other miscellany as she glared at him. “I _have_ been thinking about it. I haven't been able to _stop_ myself from thinking about it, why the fuck do you think I kissed you?”

He shrugged one shoulder as they set off up the road, eye scanning for danger as he ignored her irritation. “Heat of the moment? Adrenaline rush? It happens.”

“Because I wanted to, you _ass,_ ” She trotted a little to keep up with his long strides, the anger beginning to fade a little.

“Well, good. Just didn't think it was a good idea to do anything you might regret.”

“Why would I regret _that?_ ”

Bull smiled, but instead of answering asked, “So, what, you're interested in riding The Bull?” His eyebrow gave a suggestive twitch, and Fen snorted at the phrase.

“Creators. Not if you're gonna put it like that. But... you, yeah. A bit.”

“'A bit'? Didn't seem like 'a bit' when I had you against that wall, Fen.”

“Maybe more than a bit, then. And, um...” she trailed off, annoyed at herself for feeling awkward when he'd been so candid.

“Am I interested?”

“Well. Yeah.”

He smirked at her. “Maybe more than a bit.”

She stopped walking then, and said, “Good. We've figured that out. Why are we still going back to the fucking _garage?”_

He turned to face her as he walked backwards. “Because _we're_ the ones with supplies, and _they're_ the ones who'll start sending out search parties if we're a few hours late. You want to explain _that_ delay to Blackwall?”

Fen grumbled, “No one ever questions _him_ when he and Clem disappear,” as she jogged forward until she was walking beside him again. “Besides, a few hours? You've got a high opinion of yourself.”

He laughed, a warm rumble. “Yeah, I do,” he agreed, “But that's not the problem, _you're_ the problem.”

“Why am I a problem?” Fen demanded, her long ears flattening.

“Because _you're_ the one who'll take a few hours.”

She blinked at this, unsure of how to take his statement and after a moment just asked, “Why?”

He looked down, gave her a cocky grin, and just said, “Preparation.”

  


The next couple of days were tough for Feniradel. There wasn't time that night to disappear into the garage bathroom to relieve some of the pressure that her time with Bull had inspired. Cooking dinner while people went out on patrol, cleaning, helping Rocky with some of the homemade explosives they'd begun to use on the bigger demons—it all ate up her time, and it wasn't until she was curled up on her mattress that she realised Bull had barely spoken to her after they'd returned to the base. He hadn't acted weird on the walk back—just a little flirtier than normal—but she wondered now if he'd had second thoughts.

He seemed fine in the morning though, and they chatted normally as the day passed, falling into the routine the group had set up weeks before of scavenging, patrolling and, for the more computer-savvy, research online. She could have thought none of it had happened at all if the memory of his mouth on her neck wasn't both clear and thrilling, and if Bull hadn't squeezed her ass as she passed him in the kitchen that evening. They had no chance to talk about it though, not with so many other people and so little space. The next day was more of the same, although Bull was gone all morning on patrol with some of the Chargers. Fen spent the day chatting with the others and prepping the parts for more of Rocky's pipe bombs. It wasn't until mid-afternoon, after the morning patrols had returned and eaten, that she felt someone lean against the back of the couch she was sitting on and heard Bull ask if she was free. She glanced up at him, trying to read his expression, but he looked as at ease as ever. She looked back down at the work in front of her, where she'd been hand-drilling fuse holes in plastic caps. She'd already done a good dozen or so, laid out neatly with the other materials, so she nodded, trying to match his own casualness as she asked, “Sure, what's up?”

The corner of his eye crinkled a little as he watched her, but the rest of his expression didn't change as he said, “Grab your gun, there's a place a few miles away that we haven't checked out yet. I've got a good feeling about this one.”

  


“You've got a good feeling about a demon-infested _parking lot?”_ shouted Fen, as she jammed a new magazine into the breech of her rifle and took aim at another wraith.

“Yep!” replied Bull, as he swung himself over the boom gate of the underground parking garage. “Stay there and cover me!” He slipped into a little windowed booth near the entry and ducked down out of sight. Fen cursed as she took a second shot. She wasn't sure what was so wonderful about a parking lot with a fucking rift in it and this wasn't exactly the outing with Bull she'd _hoped_ for, but he seemed to be planning something, so she took out the weak demons and prayed to Mythal that nothing bigger was around. At least the lights were on inside—one of the rare, short periods when this part of the city had power—giving her a clear view all the way to the bottom of the ramp. She pushed forward down the ramp, keeping the demons at bay and making sure Bull would have plenty of time to do _whatever_ the void he was doing.

Several minutes and two demons later, Bull stepped out of the booth and began to jog towards her. “Time to go, Fen!” he called, dodging back around the gate.

“Still got a couple more wraiths coming up behind you,” she replied, taking aim and firing at one about to cast at Bull's back.

“I've taken care of it, come on.” He slowed as he passed her, but kept walking, long strides eating up the ground as he headed up the ramp into the daylight.

Fen backed up, her rifle still aimed at the wraiths as she retreated, but a final exasperated, “ _Fen!_ ” made her turn and start up after him. When she realised his urgency—big metal shutters were slowly grinding closed over the entry and exit ramps—she picked up her pace and ran towards him, ducking slightly as she passed beneath them and into the light.

“Thought you were gonna be stuck in there for a minute,” said Bull, as she reached him. “That would have been hard to explain to the others.”

“Didn't realise what you were doing,” she said, panting slightly. “Good idea, though. You reckon they'll be stuck?” She turned to look back down where the doors were nearly shut.

“Think so. Those weak demons are kind of dumb; if they think it's a solid wall they probably won't try and see what's on the other side.” The shutters closed with a clang, and they watched warily to see if it would work.

“How'd you get it going? Don't those places have locks and stuff?” she hazarded, eyes scanning the ramp.

“Please,” Bull replied. “I've been rewiring shit like that since I was a kid. Saw that the power was on during patrol and figured I could get it working if I had someone to watch my back.”

“So you just wanted some backup to keep them off you while you got it working?” she asked, trying to keep any hint of disappointment out of her voice.

He glanced at her and smirked. “Sure. And after the other day I figured a good fight was basically foreplay for you.”

She looked up at him, startled, then laughed. “It's more fun when I get to watch _you_ fight.”

“Really?” he asked, and she felt his arm drape around her shoulder. “I'll have to keep that in mind.”

He tugged her toward him, and she tilted her head back as he leaned down and their mouths met in a slow and lingering kiss. One of his enormous hands came up to run a thumb along her jaw as he reached around to cradle the back of her head. Her hands were full with her rifle, but she eased her grip on it to one hand and held onto his upper arm for balance as she stood on tiptoes to kiss him back.

When he pulled back several long moments later they were both breathing a little heavier and he asked her, voice pitched low, “Still interested?”

She swallowed hard and managed, “Definitely still interested.”

“Good. Come on.” He straightened, one hand still wrapped around her shoulder, and urged her back out into the street.

“We're not going back to base again, are we?” she asked, mildly suspicious.

“Not unless you want to. They don't expect us back for a while yet, and I've got somewhere better in mind,” They began walking down the street, his arm sliding down from her shoulders to wrap comfortably around her waist.

“Better than a mattress on a garage floor, surrounded by a bunch of other people? I'm shocked.”

“And it's almost guaranteed demon-free now, too.”

“Because of the garage?”

“Yep, there're no other tears for miles around.”

“After the last couple of months that sounds like paradise.”

He grinned at her. “And I haven't even started yet.”

  


Fen surveyed the abandoned motel as Bull rummaged around behind the office counter, yet another victim of Val Royeaux's mass exodus after demons started pouring out of the Fade. “You know, this place is actually pretty good. We could move the whole crew out here; the extra space would be nice.”

“It's got the space, but it's not really defensible. We'd be all spread out along the rooms,” he pointed out. “Besides, do you really want to deprive Blackwall of his vending machine snacks?” He made a noise of triumph as he found the right drawer, and held up a key. “Room three, sound good?”

Fen shrugged. “Aren't they all the same? I've never stayed somewhere like this.”

“Yeah, but everyone knows good things come in threes,” Bull replied with a smirk. Fen just groaned, following him outside and down to the right room.

He unlocked the door and carefully opened it a crack, alert for any danger before he swung it all the way open. “Looks good. No abominations, no assholes leaving their wet towels on the bed.”

“Both terrible mood killers,” Fen agreed as Bull held the door for her. She entered, looking around curiously. The room was fairly basic—a large bed and a couple of bedside tables. TV hanging on the wall facing the bed. A little table that held an old electric kettle and tea and coffee things, a couple of kitchen chairs next to it. Another door that she assumed led to a bathroom. She reached out and flicked the light switch. “Power's out again,” she told Bull as he closed the door behind him.

“Figures. Doesn't really matter that much.” She looked over to where he was leaning against the wall, unlacing his boots, then glanced around the room again before hanging her rifle up on a coat hook by the door. Fen felt unaccountably nervous now that the tension between them had dropped, as though they were scoping out the room as a hideout or something, not as a place to have sex. Scolding herself, she walked over to check the bathroom. Just a toilet, shower stall and sink. She tried the taps—cold water working, hot, unsurprisingly, not—and washed her hands and face, suddenly glad she'd used the garage's makeshift shower that morning. When she glanced up into the mirror, Bull was standing behind her in the bathroom doorway, watching. He'd stripped off his shirt as well as his boots, and she took in his bare torso appreciatively. He hadn't reapplied the black paint stuff— _vitaar_ , he called it—recently, and just a few faded traces of a pattern were left across his shoulders and chest. His many scars were a little intimidating but also, she had to admit, kind of sexy too. He'd evidently been through some nasty shit at some point, and there was something appealing about a man who'd survived so much. His enormous frame and the way his muscles flexed as he moved didn't hurt either.

“Nice view?” he asked, and Fen realised she'd been staring.

“Extremely nice,” she replied, turning to face him as he ducked through the door. She had to lean back to look up at him as he rested his hands on her waist, her back pressing against the sink. “I'm honestly not sure I can compete.”

His hands moved down to squeeze her hips, and as he easily lifted her onto the edge of the sink he replied, “You've got your own appeal, in that 'cute and deadly' kind of way.”

“Good to know,” she murmured as he leaned down to kiss her again, his hands slipping under the bottom of her T-shirt and roaming across her sides and back. She shivered, her nervousness disappearing at his eager touch, and ran her hands up his powerful arms before wrapping her arms around his neck and trying to tug him closer. He stepped forward, not breaking the kiss, and she had to lean backwards as he towered over her, moving between her legs. His tongue in her mouth, his hands creeping up her sides toward her breasts, the feel of him pressed hard against her; she moaned in sudden arousal, unconsciously trying to wrap her legs around him, just wanting _more_ of everything.

A minute or two later Bull pulled out of the kiss and plucked at her shirt. “May I?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that went straight to her crotch. She nodded mutely, and he pushed the shirt up and tugged it over her head.

His eye was roaming over her bare chest as she leaned back awkwardly, elbows on the sides of the sink, her head resting against the bathroom mirror as she watched him. He absently tossed her T-shirt onto the floor, apparently more interested in getting his hands back on her. He wrapped them around her waist again, his calloused hands nearly entirely encircling her, and gently smoothed them up over her stomach and rib cage, brushing the rough pads of his thumbs over her already-hard brown nipples. Her eyes fluttered closed as she arched into the touch, and she heard him murmur “Beautiful,” before his lips were on her neck. His hands caressed the sensitive underside of her breasts, gently lifting and squeezing, his thumbs occasionally rubbing across or flicking at her nipples. Her breasts were about average size for an elf, but they were dwarfed in the Qunari's kneading hands. Bull didn't seem to mind as he kissed and licked enthusiastically down past her collarbone and over her chest. Fen bit her lip as she pushed her chest out, offering herself to his warm hands and mouth. He'd had to step back to lean down enough to kiss her neck and she missed the feel of him between her legs, even though the new sensations more than made up for it. Her hands stroked along his neck and jaw, and she ran a finger over the outside of one of his ears, unsure if they were as sensitive as her own. He cupped her breasts in his hands, pushing them up as he ran his mouth over them, sucking at the soft brown skin as he made his way to one of her nipples. He glanced up at her as he licked around her areola, watching her expression. Whatever he saw must have been encouraging, for he smiled slightly and teased it slowly, tracing the dark edges with his tongue before swirling it over her nipple and taking the stiff bud in his mouth, sucking gently. Fen gasped, trying to arch her back even further, and her hands wandered up to the top of his shaved head and tentatively over his horns, trying to pull him closer. Bull hummed in his throat and sucked harder before tugging at her nipple with his lips, the hand on her other breast mimicking the movement, pinching her nipple gently between thumb and forefinger. After a moment he switched breasts, licking and sucking at her, teasing her nipples with his tongue before sucking on them, his tongue still flicking over the tips as he drew them into his mouth. His free hand always holding her hip firmly so she wouldn't slip off the edge of the sink, he pinched and tugged at her nipples again, and Fen's chest heaved as she stared down at him, breathing fast. The sensations were intense—sharp and tingling and incredibly good. He watched her carefully, and each time he pinched a little harder she gasped or mewled, eyes fluttering shut, fingers digging into his scalp but not wanting him to stop. He hummed again before releasing her nipples and gently licking at them, switching sides from time to time while his hands stroked across the bottom of her breasts, cupping and squeezing again. Fen tried to catch her breath now that the intense pressure was gone, and found herself half-wishing he hadn't stopped, even though her neck hurt from leaning against the mirror, and even though his hands felt almost as good stroking across her skin as they did pinching at her nipples.

Bull lifted his head from her chest a minute or two later to kiss her jaw and then her lips, before pulling back to murmur, “Bed?”

“Bed.” Fen agreed fervently, sitting up. She was about to slip down from the sink when Bull pushed his hands under her ass and pulled her up, just as he had days before. Fen yelped as she almost lost her balance, grabbing at his shoulders.

Bull just looked amused and said, “I'm not gonna let you fall.”

“A little warning next time would be nice,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him now that she was steady. Still, it felt good to be pressed against him, his bare chest warm against her own, his hands cupping her ass firmly. But the bed was only steps away and Fen was a little disappointed when he put her down on the bedspread. He pressed her down with one hand on her shoulder, and moved to kneel on the edge of the bed between her spread knees, kissing her lips briefly before making his way back to her breasts. He spent a minute or two teasing her nipples back into hardness with his mouth and fingers before working his way lower, kissing down her ribs and across her stomach, pausing briefly to trace the line of her hips with his tongue before moving lower still. His hands stroked over her bare thighs, teasing their way inwards as he glanced up at her. He didn't have a chance to ask anything before she impatiently nodded her head and said, “Yes. _Please_.”

He smiled but said nothing, and dropped a kiss on her hip as he undid the buttons on her shorts and stepped back to tug them down. They too were tossed aside, and Fen was just left in pair of plain black panties with Bull gazing at her body appreciatively. She looked at him uncertainly as he moved back towards her, still wearing his own trousers, and asked, “What about you?”

He looked surprised that she'd asked but shook his head. “Not yet,” was the enigmatic reply, before he moved to lay on his side next to her, propped up on his right elbow, his horn nearly brushing the bed.

She went to turn towards him, but his other hand pushed her firmly back down. “Trust me,” he murmured as his hand slid back to her breasts, lightly tracing over them with his fingertips before moving down to her stomach. Fen tucked her left arm under his elbow, caressing his raised side and what she could reach of his back before leaning up to press a series of kisses against his throat and jaw. Bull made an appreciative sound and met her lips in a quick peck as his hand stroked down the front of her thigh to her raised knee before sliding back up along the soft inside. He nudged her thighs apart and she willingly spread them for him as she twisted towards Bull, her right hand skimming up his arm and across his shoulder as she kissed along his clavicle.

He teased the inside of her thighs with the two long fingers on his left hand as she kissed him, before moving in and stroking them lightly along her panty-covered pussy from her ass to the curls on her mound. She gasped softly into his chest, the hand holding onto his shoulder tightening its grip for a moment before she left it fall back to her side. It was an effort to reach the big man from this position so she settled for laying back, glancing between his face—watching her—and his hand between her legs, still stroking her lightly through her underwear. She kept one arm tucked beneath him, hand rubbing over his back, while running the other along the thick muscles of the arm teasing her mound.

His fingers stroked up and down, up and down, sometimes along the edges of the black cloth, sometimes directly over the centre, the light touch teasing her labia. Her eyes flickered shut as she felt shivers from his touch, then opened to look beseechingly at Bull. “Can't you just _touch_ me?” she pleaded. He obviously had a certain pace in mind, but the feathery touches and the way he was holding himself back made her want to push _him_ down and grind against him until she got off.

He cocked his head, breaking into a sly smile, and said, “All you had to do was ask,” and Fen had to bite back a moan as the light touch on her pussy became much firmer. The two fingers dragged up her slit again, this time with more pressure, parting her lips through her panties and sliding firmly over the bump of her clitoris. Her hand on his back clutched at him, her fingernails digging into him, and Bull carefully manoeuvred himself down on his arm, tilting his head so he could kiss her. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers touched her through her panties, one moment pressing against her entrance, the next dragging up, one on either side of her clit, the roughness of the cotton an extra layer of stimulation. Her hips lifted up against his hand, desperately wanting more even as she realised he was purposefully building her up.

“Please,” she gasped. “ _Please_.”

He pulled out of the kiss, nuzzling into her neck and licking the sensitive skin behind her ear as his hand moved up to the waistband of her panties and slid beneath it, and she moaned again to finally feel his skin on hers. His fingers restarted the slow movements up and down, frustratingly light again as they brushed along the outside of her mound. Her right hand stroked his neck and the back of his head as he licked and nibbled at her ear, while she tried in vain to grind against his hand. Every time she pushed against him he would pull back, and she struggled to hold herself in place just so he would keep touching her. He was _playing_ with her and it was incredibly frustrating, but at the same time the way he rewarded her for stillness—a long, thick finger pressing down into her folds, teasing her entrance—made her want to play along.

She felt Bull shift next to her, and he whispered, “You are _soaking_ wet,” into her ear as he tugged gently on the stud in her earlobe with his teeth.

She gasped and managed, “Wha'd you expe—” before breaking into a moan as his thumb made a surprise appearance, rubbing down over her clit. Bull chuckled softly before edging down further to kiss her breasts again. The twin assault—his tongue lapping at her hardening nipple or plucking at it with his lips while his thumb stroked rhythmically over her clit, a maddening side-to-side motion only enhanced by his index finger at her entrance dipping in slowly and withdrawing, a little deeper each time—quickly had her moaning, and she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.

Bull glanced up at this and frowned a little, tugging her hand away with the arm he was leaning on, his other still keeping up the pace on her pussy. “Hey, I _want_ to hear you,” he said, holding onto her hand as he turned back to her breast. Fen watched him with glazed eyes, too distracted to argue. She gripped his hand with her own and moaned at a particularly firm stroke of his finger inside her, rocking her hips into his palm. He didn't pull away this time and, encouraged, Fen did it again, the extra sensation making her gasp. As she rocked against him, his long finger worked deeper inside her, pumping slowly in and out and curling forward on each stroke. His finger was larger than any elf or human's, but it wasn't nearly thick enough to be uncomfortable, and the length left her tingling. She mewled and groaned as they set up a rhythm, Fen rocking into Bull's palm as he fucked her with his hand, his mouth moving back up to her neck to suck hard where it met her shoulder. Her hand snaked down to hold his wrist as she arched her back, gasping his name, and he responded by speeding up their pace. His skin was coarse as it rubbed along her labia and ground against her clit, and his finger inside her rubbed her inner walls on every achingly long stroke, and she pulled his hand hard against her pussy as she rocked into it, wanting _more_. More of his big, rough hands, more of his finger pressing deep into her, _against_ her, in ways no smaller lover could. She shivered at his mouth on her neck, feeling his chest leaning against her, broad and heavy and _powerful_. Every rough brush across her clit pushed her closer to the edge, and she felt herself begin to tense around his finger, her toes curling, her calf muscles taut. She moaned again, her head tilted back, throat bared to Bull as he began to murmur into her ear, “Come for me, Fen. I want to see you come.” His voice was a deep growl that made her breath catch and each sentence was punctuated by a lick or suck at the side of her sensitive neck. “I want to feel you come hard on my fingers. Pretty little Fen, sweet filthy girl, _come for me._ ”

She came. Hard. Clutching his hand, nails digging into his wrist, she ground against him, gasping out an incoherent string of “Oh fuck, oh gods, oh fuck, Bull, _Bull_ , _please_ , _fuck,_ ” as she felt herself clench up around the finger inside her before bursting into a shuddering orgasm, hips bucking helplessly as he continued to stroke her. Her left hand grasped at his shoulder, trying to pull him closer as her back arched, wanting to feel him against her body as she rode out the waves of pleasure. He leaned against her carefully, still watching her face as she came—her eyes squeezed shut, her face flushed, her litany ceasing as she let out a long, wordless moan instead—before burying his face back into her neck. He sucked hard at her collarbone and murmured, “That's right. Such a good girl, Fen,” as she whimpered, going limp beneath him and breathing hard.

He pulled his finger out of her carefully, and she let her grip on his hand slip away as he lightened up the pressure on her over-sensitive clit. Instead his fingers returned to their slow stroking of her slippery slit, coaxing gentle aftershocks out of her as he kissed her shoulder and waited for her to regain her composure.

“I really,” she began a minute later, her voice wavering, “ _really_ needed that.”

“Looked like it,” Bull replied, pulling back to look at her face. She was still flushed and there was a light sheen of sweat across her forehead, but her gaze was clear and direct. Shaky, she leaned up on her elbow and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

“Your turn?” she asked with a lazy, inviting smile, her hand reaching out to stroke his stomach, but Bull shook his head and, his hand withdrawing from her pussy, gently took her wrist before she went any lower.

“Not yet,” he said. “You're not ready yet.”

“I'm not—” she broke off, looking incredulous. “How am I not ready? I bloody well _feel_ ready after that.”

Bull leaned back and laughed at her expression. “Fen, what exactly are you expecting from an entire race of seven-foot-tall warrior men?” he asked her, eyebrow raised.

She hesitated at that, glancing down at his crotch, and said uncertainly, “It can't be _that_ big.”

“I would _love_ to know what you're imagining right now, but I might end up feeling outclassed,” he said, dropping her hand onto her stomach and pushing himself up, “Let's just say one finger isn't gonna cut it.”

She watched his back muscles flex as he climbed off the bed and walked over to the table where a collection of mugs sat by a package of tea bags. Grabbing one, he ducked into the bathroom and she heard water running. A pause, then more water and he came to the bedroom, holding the mug out to Fen. “Water?” he asked, and she sat up and took it gratefully. He sat down beside her as she sipped, one hand rubbing over her back, and she leaned into his touch.

After a moment of silence she murmured, “This... really isn't what I expected.”

“No? What were you expecting?”

“I don't know,” she glanced over at him. “The way you've talked about women before... Something hard and fast and potentially bed-breaking?”

He shrugged one shoulder, giving her a half smile. “That's fun too, but this isn't exactly the time for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I figured we might want to take it easy your first time.”

“It's _not_ my first time, you already know I've had sex before,” Fen pointed out.

“Your first time with _me_ ,” he amended. “Or anyone that's not another elf, right?”

“I guess,” she admitted with a hint of reluctance.

“If you're not enjoying it, we can stop,” he said, his hand pausing on her back.

She turned to look at him so fast some of the water sloshed out of the cup. “No! No. I didn't mean to say it like it was bad or _boring_ or anything, it's been really, really good, _you've_ been really—”

Bull laughed as she babbled, his hand resuming its rubbing. “Fen,” he said, “It's fine. I'm not gonna kick you out, I just wanted to make sure you know we can stop any time you like, all right? No pressure.”

“I— Okay. Yeah.” She nodded, then quickly added, “But I _really_ don't want to.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, taking the mug out of her unresisting hand and placing it on the bedside table. “I was looking forward to the next bit.”

“The next bit?”

He grinned at her. “Move up here,” he said, standing andgesturing to the head of the bed. She cocked her head at him but obediently shuffled back on her heels until she was propped up among the pillows, where she looked expectant, interested to discover what he had planned.

He kneeled on the bed beside her, dropping a kiss on her forehead and murmuring, “Good girl,” then ran a thumb over her lips as she wrinkled her nose at him. He kissed her again, on her lips this time, and she responded eagerly, her hands running over his chest and stomach as their tongues met in a tangle. He slowly pulled away, trailing kisses along her cheek, jaw, ear and neck, before moving further down the bed. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of her panties, and she raised up a little to let him tug them down. His mouth trailed along her legs as he pulled her underwear off, lips brushing against her thighs and knees, fingers stroking along her brown skin. He slipped the panties off her feet and tossed them into a corner before moving back to her, his hands stroking over her legs again, from her ankles up to her thighs, nudging them apart as he settled on his stomach with his head between her raised knees. Fen spread her legs uncertainly, not wanting to accidentally knock his horns as she moved, but Bull seemed to know exactly what he was doing, taking her hips in his hands and tugging her lower among the pillows as he shrugged her knees over his shoulders. She felt weirdly exposed for a moment, the way he expertly manoeuvred her disconcerting, but when he dropped a few lazy kisses on the inside of her thighs before looking back up at her it was easy to ignore. She trusted him to have her back against demons, trusted his judgement and advice; doubting him _because_ he knew what he was doing felt ridiculous.

She smiled back down at him, her hands reaching down to stroke his jaw. He tilted his head to kiss the tips of her fingers, then looked back down at her pussy, pressing a second kiss to the curls above her slit. His arms wrapped around her thighs, one dipping between her legs as the other held her hip, fingers stroking over her skin. She felt his fingers gently spreading her open, and she shuddered as he felt his warm breath on her still-wet folds. Her eyes drifted shut as she felt him begin to lap at her pussy and she let herself luxuriate in the feeling of his fingers and tongue. If he wanted her to relax so she'd be ' _ready_ ', was she really going to argue? He seemed to want her just as much as she wanted him, and that thought was a pleasant knot in her stomach. She idly stroked at his head and horns as he licked and sucked experimentally, his mouth moving over her as he discovered what she liked—long, lazy licks and his tongue teasing around her entrance made her breath catch; flicking or sucking at her clit made her squirm away, and after each attempt he licked along her slit again in apparent apology. He settled into a pattern that left her humming happily, his tongue soft as he laved her from below her entrance to up over her clit. He kept to the same steady pace, the sensations vastly different from when she was grinding hard against his hand. Now everything was warmth and gentleness, from his tongue and breath on her to his fingers spreading her open and the hand holding her hip. She sighed contently, feeling the tension drain from her under his ministrations, and draped an arm across her eyes to block out the afternoon sunlight pouring through the open curtains, the better to concentrate on the pleasure he was bringing her.

He must have been watching her reactions, as he paused a moment later to press a kiss to her thigh and ask, “Good?”

“Mhmm,” she replied dreamily. Bull laughed softly and bent back to his work—the same steady rhythm, a slow and lingering build-up that promised even more pleasure ahead. After several minutes more of steady licking, he nudged her leg off his right shoulder, letting it fall open as he brought his hand up to begin teasing her entrance with his fingers again. She made a quiet noise of approval as he slipped one finger easily back inside her, the pace of his tongue never faltering. He moved it in and out of her in a rhythm that matched his tongue: slow, but not teasingly so. She moaned softly, spreading her thighs wider, her hips tilting up slightly. Bull murmured indistinctly into her pussy, but sounded pleased at her reaction. A few more strokes and she felt a second finger begin to push inside of her beside the first, a little deeper on each leisurely thrust. Bull went slowly, keeping her relaxed with gentle licks and the steady pace. Two fingers together were large, yes, but not uncomfortably so. As her body adjusted to the penetration she felt pleasantly full, but not stretched. He worked them in and out of her in long, slow motions, and each time he withdrew, he curled his fingers up towards her belly, stroking her from the inside. She mewled with pleasure, her breath coming a little quicker at the added sensation. She cracked open her eyes and looked down to see Bull watching her intently as he licked. Seeing her look back he paused—though his fingers kept moving—and pressed a kiss to her clit before asking, “Still good?”

“Very good,” she murmured in reply, hand fondly stroking down his scarred cheek. “Maybe a little faster?”

“Can do,” he answered, his voice low. He went back to licking at her the same way, each caress of his tongue still gentle, but the rhythm itself a little more urgent. He made a questioning sound in his throat as he glanced up at her, not pausing to ask, but Fen's hips answered for her, jerking as she gasped and nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. His fingers moved slightly faster inside her to match, and the friction of his knuckles rubbing against her entrance as he stroked combined with the rubbing inside her felt overwhelmingly good. It wasn't yet enough to make her come, but she could feel the warmth slowly growing and spreading, the gradual build-up a delight on its own.

One arm still draped over her eyes, her other hand idly stroked over the back of his head, sometimes drifting up to the explore the rough curve of his horns. She wasn't sure how sensitive the juncture of skin and horn was, so she lightly ran just her fingertips over it, distantly curious. A twitch of Bull's head and a quiet snort between her legs and she opened her eyes to see him take her hand in his and kiss the knuckles. “That tickles,” he murmured.

“Sorry,” she said abashed, “I wasn't sure if I could...”

“You can,” he answered, letting her go. “It's fine, it feels good. Just not so soft?”

She nodded, and when he bent back down to lick at her again she placed her hand back on his head, experimentally smoothing over the skin between his horns with a firmer touch. A second brush of her fingers, this time drawing her nails over the rough skin, earned her a groan of approval and an extra lick at her clitoris. She smiled, eyes closing again, idly running her fingernails over his scalp.

They were both quiet for a long while, the only sound the wet noises from his fingers and mouth and their occasional moans and sighs, and neither noticed as the sun began to dip towards to the horizon.

Bull was very gradually increasing the pace, his tongue and fingers still working in tandem, and she was concentrating on the feelings he was drawing from her. She could feel the growing tightness low in her body, but was content to let him build her up to it his own way. Everything he had done to her so far had left her wanting more, so if he wanted to prolong her pleasure she wasn't going to object. As Bull began to lap at her faster though, he focused more and more on her clit, with shorter strokes concentrated on her most sensitive spot. She let out a shuddering gasp as he returned again and again to the little bump, his tongue still gentle, but the pace now one that made her toes curl. Her other hand came down to stroke his head, resisting the urge to pull him closer, and she bit her lip as his fingers matched the cadence the rock of her hips had set. She drew her heels up and her thighs spread wider as she squirmed on his fingers with little whimpers. She heard Bull groan and then the hand that was spreading her open pulled away and a moment later his forearm was slipping beneath her ass, lifting her as he leaned up to match the new angle. His tongue pushed through her folds, the same short licks, but now he could work his fingers even deeper inside her and Fen couldn't stop her soft wail of pleasure.

One hand really was pulling at his head now while she flung the other over her eyes for a moment before reaching up to grab the top of the pillow she lay on. She buried her face in the crook of her elbow, whimpering and gasping. The steady pace was insistent, demanding, unstoppable, the overwhelming sensation leaving her awash in nothing but the almost unbearable awareness of his tongue and fingers on and in her. She whimpered again, the pressure unrelenting, endless. Her toes curled as she pushed into his touch, desperately wanting the release that had been building for so long. The whimpers turned into sobs as she bucked at Bull, gasping out, “Please, oh gods, _please_ , I'm so _close_ ,” not knowing what she wanted, just knowing that she needed _something_ to take her over the precipice.

Bull seemed to have some idea. He groaned again at her pleading, his breath incredibly hot against her pussy, and his lips moved around her clit, no longer licking but sucking gently, his tongue rubbing across her instead, steady and overpowering.

It was more than enough. Her long-awaited climax crashed over her, burying her in heat and sensation, drowning out everything except his tongue on her clit and the fingers deep inside of her. She wailed loudly, arching her back and clenching down hard on Bull's fingers, her thighs jerking back together and her heels digging into his broad back as she squirmed against him. His mouth was still firmly pressed against her as she bucked against him, pulling further shocks of sensation from her before she could recover from the tidal wave of her orgasm. She sobbed again in a long trembling breath and gasped out, “Oh _gods_ ,” as another wave shuddered through her. Her hips left the bed as she rose up against him, her fingers digging into his scalp before she fell back, crying out. Moments later she was pushing at Bull's head, gasping, “no more, please, no more.” He released her over-sensitive clit immediately, twisting his head a little to nudge her thighs apart so he could pull back. He slowly withdrew his fingers, but the movement was still incredibly intense to her raw nerves and Fen squirmed away, whimpering. She twisted onto her side away from him, drawing her knees up to her chest, her hands over her face as she let out several short, stuttering gasps.

She didn't feel Bull move, her body still too flooded with sensation, but a moment later she heard him next to her. “Fen?” he asked, sounding concerned.

She inhaled slowly, trying to calm her breathing, and after a few moments she lifted one hand away from her face to see him leaning over her, frowning as he searched her expression. She met his gaze and said in a shaky voice, “I don't know whether I should tell you—” she had to stop for a moment, swallowing hard, before going on, “if I should tell you to _never_ do that to me again, or to ask you to do it every fucking day.” The corner of her lips twitched up into a small smile and she closed her eyes again, still trying catch her breath. She felt his hand stroke gently across her shoulder and down her arm, the touch reassuring to her frayed nerves. She felt warm and shaky and exhausted, and it helped to know that he was still right there. A couple of seconds later she uncurled slightly, enough to push her back against Bull now that he'd moved behind her to the head of the bed, turning her head to rest against the side of his thigh as her eyes fluttered back open.

“'m okay,” she murmured, looking up at his face. She lifted one hand and rested it on his leg, sorry that she'd worried him.

His own hand covered it, squeezing softly, and he asked, “Sure?”

She nodded and gingerly began to uncurl. She pulled herself up enough to be able to lean against Bull, taking his hand and wrapping his arm around her as she nestled into his bare side. He twisted a little to kiss the top of her head before tugging her close, pulling her between his legs—one knee raised and foot flat on the bed, the other curled up in front of him—so that her back was against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around her. He bent his head and kissed the tip of one long ear. “You're still trembling,” he said softly.

She nodded, sighing, and let herself lean back against his broad chest, her hands coming up to stroke his arms. “That was intense,” she said, her voice finally steady again. “Not _bad_ ,” she amended, “but really... intense.”

“You sound wiped out,” he murmured into her hair. “We can keep going another time if you want to rest.”

She shook her head. “Just give me a few minutes,” she said, burrowing into his warmth as he leaned back, pulling her with him. The light in the room had begun to fade and her eyes felt heavy. “I'll be fine in a bit.”

  


When Fen woke she was curled up naked on the hotel bed, head on a pillow and half of the bedspread folded over to cover her. She lay there for a moment, disoriented, before remembering what had happened earlier. Earlier? Or was it yesterday? She buried her face in the pillow, a flush rising in her cheeks as she realised that she must have fallen asleep on Bull. They hadn't even had sex and she fell asleep!

“Fucking _wolf_ shit,” she muttered, before reluctantly pushing herself up on one elbow. She was alone in the room, which was dimly lit by a few candles on the table. Fen stared at them. The room definitely didn't have candles in it when they'd come in. The bathroom door was shut and she could hear water running from behind it. That was a relief; at least Bull hadn't ditched her, though she didn't think she could blame him if he had. She sat up with a sigh and tugged the bedspread around her shoulders before wrapping her arms around her knees. She'd have to apologise; _that_ was going to be an awkward conversation. 'Sorry for getting off and then blue balling you by falling asleep'. Yeah. _Great_.

She sat there and listened, watching the flame of a candle and wondering what time it was. After a few more minutes the sound of the water ceased. The door cracked open shortly afterwards, and Bull stepped out dressed only in his trousers, a white towel around his neck and both his eye patch and her discarded T-shirt in his hand. The room behind him was also lit, probably by more candles. He smiled when he saw her sitting up and asked, “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You were showering?”

“Yeah. There's only cold water, but the pressure beats anything we've rigged up at the garage.” He dropped the clothes onto a chair, and began to to rub the towel along his horns as he spoke.

Fen hesitated for a moment, then just decided to get it over with. “Hey,” she began. “Look, I'm sorry about earlier, that was really shitty of me.”

Bull raised his eyebrows, “You're sorry for falling asleep?”

“Yeah. It's not exactly why we came here. And I didn't do _anything_ for you.”

“I didn't ask you to,” Bull replied, draping the wet towel over the back of the chair. “And there are worse ways to spend a couple of hours than being used as a pillow for a naked woman.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Fen with a sly smile, adding, “Especially when she fell asleep because I made her come too hard.”

Fen groaned and buried her face in her arms, still resting on her knees. A moment later she heard Bull ask in amusement, “Are your _ears_ going red?”

“Shut up, they are not,” she responded, her voice muffled.

She felt him move closer, then a finger ran lightly up one ear, which flicked at the tickling sensation. “Definitely red,” he said, his voice low. He stroked her hair, saying, “Come on, Fen. You're not the only one who took a nap, you know.”

She looked up, cheeks a little flushed, and rested her chin on her knees. “You fell asleep too?”

Bull shrugged. “Didn't want to get up and disturb you. And I was pretty comfortable.”

Fen snorted at that and asked, “How long was I out, anyway?”

“About three hours. It's a bit past eight now.”

“Three hours?” she asked, startled. “Shit, should we go back? The others are probably worried.”

“Already taken care of,” Bull said. “I called Krem earlier, told him we'd lost track of time and had found a place to camp for the night.”

“Oh.” Fen thought about that for a moment, then nodded at the candles and asked, “You found those too?”

“Yeah, figured the hotel would have some in case of blackouts. Found a torch, too.”

“So,” said Fen slowly, “We have a secure room with water and light, no demons to worry about, and no one's going to disturb us for the entire night?”

Bull nodded. “That's about it, yeah.”

“Amazing what three months can do to your priorities, isn't it?”

Bull leaned back and laughed. “Yeah. No food and no power, but at least we're not gonna end up possessed while we have sex.”

She smiled a bit and asked, “So you are still interested? Even... considering?”

“Are you kidding? You were sprawled out naked on top of me for _two hours_ ,” he said. “There's a _reason_ I needed that cold shower.”

“Oh, _good,_ ” she said, and scrambled awkwardly onto her knees, leaning up to press a light kiss to his mouth. “I was worried I had put you off,” she murmured.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her back. “Not after hearing the noises you made earlier,” he said after they parted again, his voice that low growl she found so attractive. “I want to see how hard you come when I'm actually fucking you.” He kissed her again, more forcefully, and her hands slid up along his arms as he pulled her against him. His skin was still cool from the shower and her nipples hardened as her breasts pressed against him while they kissed. Bull pulled away after a minute and tugged her over until she was straddling his lap. His thighs were too broad for her knees to reach the bed, so her widely-spread legs simply dangled to his sides. She wriggled for a moment, getting comfortable, and his hands squeezed and stroked her hips and ass while he watched.

“Want me to put the patch back on?” he asked after a moment.

She looked up at him, surprised. Where his left eye had been was heavily scarred, his eyelid covering the empty socket. “It doesn't really bother me,” she answered honestly, reaching up to stroke his temple and cheek. Worse scars weren't uncommon among her clan, where medical treatments largely consisted of herbs, sewing kits, and the Keeper’s magic. His head turned to briefly kiss her fingertips and she smiled before leaning in to press a series of kisses against his shoulder, one hand curiously skimming over his scarred chest, the other wandering across to his far shoulder.

He tilted his head a little, and she kissed and licked her way up his throat and, stretching up now and tugging his head lower, to his ear. She kissed and then sucked softly at the skin behind his ear, then traced the edge of it with her tongue, fascinated by the curled shape that was neither elven nor human. She sucked at his earlobe, teasing it with her tongue before tugging gently on it with her teeth. His hands, stroking up and down her sides and across her ass, paused for a moment at her waist and squeezed as he made a tiny noise in his throat. Encouraged, she licked it and tugged again as she stroked her fingers along his rough jaw, then up to run a thumb across his lower lip. He kissed it and licked lightly at the tip of the digit then nuzzled into her hand, pressing kisses against her palm before she withdrew it, sliding it down his chest and tracing his scars with light fingers. Her hands slid across the broad expanse of his pectorals, palms rubbing against his nipples, then circling and rubbing them with her fingertips. She moved her mouth to suck at his throat again, tongue tracing the thick muscles and old scars before trailing down to his collarbone. Her fingers stroked a little harder over his nipples and he groaned quietly, taking her by the hips and tugging her closer to him. She couldn't easily grind down into his lap with her legs splayed so awkwardly, but she rolled her hips to show her enthusiasm as she left sucking kisses along his clavicle. His hands slid to her ass, squeezing as he pulled her hard against him and she whimpered into his shoulder as she felt the hard, warm swell of his crotch beneath her. She rocked her hips again as her mouth moved lower on his chest, light kisses pressed to his sternum, and heard him murmur her name in a strained voice a moment before his hands were lifting her off him and pushing her down on the bed.

He bent over her, kissing her mouth urgently as he grabbed her right wrist and pinned it to the bed. Her other arm curled around his shoulder as she felt him draw up one knee between her legs, and she moaned into his mouth at the pressure against her mound. She pushed against it, grinding against the rough fabric of his trousers and Bull pulled out of the kiss with a curse, before burying his head in the crook of her neck and lightly biting her, then sucking on the place his teeth had marked her. Fen gasped and rocked her hips against him harder at that and he pulled back to look down at her, murmuring, “I've barely touched you and I can already tell how fucking wet you are.”

She grinned up at him. “You're good at what you do,” she answered, still rubbing against his thigh. “But I won't argue if you want to touch me more.”

He shook his head, then lowered his mouth to her ear and tugged on one of her studs with his teeth, growling, “ _Good_.”

  


Bull's mouth worked on her ears and neck again, and she wondered if he'd memorised the spots that made her moan. He returned to them over and over, softly nibbling or swirling his tongue in maddening patterns. Fen was panting by the time he decided to move on, and she watched as he sucked and licked his way to her heaving breasts. He teased them for long minutes, tracing her areolae with his tongue, flicking her nipples and finally sucking on them hard as he had hours earlier, tugging them between his lips and now his teeth. She arched up into the pleasure and he brought his other knee up onto the bed, pausing to tug her ass up onto his broad thighs. Her legs parted around his waist as he leaned over her, her weight resting comfortably on her shoulder blades. His left hand kept her wrist pinned to the bed as he leaned over her—his weight on his knuckles, his grip firm but not painful—while his other hand squeezed, tugged and pinched in tandem with his mouth. She couldn't help but moan at the sensations, growing louder the firmer his grasp grew until it was just barely short of painful—or maybe a little beyond. She felt muddled and bewildered at the feelings he was pulling from her, only knowing that she couldn't bear it if he stopped. She quieted back to pants as he finally released her nipples and instead licked them gently, then blew over them, and the cold air on her overstimulated buds made her gasp his name and dig the nails of her free hand into his shoulder. He nuzzled into the sides of her breasts then, leaving her nipples hard and aching. He kissed and licked the soft swells of her breasts as his hand drifted lower, skimming lightly over her raised hips and thighs and teasingly around her mound, never actually touching it. After a minute or so of feathery brushes over her skin everywhere but where she _wanted_ his hand, she reached down and grabbed it with a little frustrated whimper, and dragged it to her pussy herself. Her much smaller fingers held his hand against her mound, trying to encourage him to move, to _touch_ her, and she heard Bull chuckle, his mouth still at her breasts. She looked down at him pleadingly. “Bull, _please_ ,” she said, voice desperate.

“Please what?” he asked teasingly, licking lightly at her nipple as he cupped her pussy in his hand, barely touching it.

“Please _touch me_ ,” she replied, almost whimpering as she rolled her hips, aching to feel his stubborn fingers on her.

“Touch you where?” he asked, lips brushing against her breast as he spoke, and Fen wanted to swear in frustrated desire.

Instead she swallowed hard, willing her voice to be steady as she answered, “Please touch my pussy before I _scream_.”

He chuckled, and looked up at her. “So you _don't_ want me to make you scream?” he asked, all innocence, but his hand finally relented, brushing along her slit before pushing into the warm wetness of her folds.

“You're a—” she gasped at the sudden feel of his fingers and wrapped her hand around his wrist, “a _bastard_ , Bull.”

He leaned forward and murmured into her ear, his voice low, “Maybe I just like it when you beg.” He squeezed her trapped wrist and she felt one thick finger push slowly inside of her. She let out a suddenly shaky breath, and looked up to where he loomed over her, eyes wide as she stared at his face. He pumped his finger in and out faster than she expected and she whimpered at the sudden intensity, but found herself unwilling to look away. Bull's expression was unreadable with no trace of his usual teasing smile, and Fen was suddenly reminded that the man pinning her to the bed was much larger and much stronger than her, and it was well within his power to do anything he wanted to her, _take_ anything he wanted from her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him. She realised with a shiver that the last thought hadn't been frightening; it had been _thrilling_. He took his time with her and made her feel good because he _wanted_ to, not because he _had_ to, and definitely not because she held any power over him. She had admired both his ferocity and control before when they fought side by side, but she'd never considered what it would be like to have it directed at her. Now, stretched out naked beneath him, the thought of being at his mercy made her ache for him in a way she didn't understand.

She licked her lips as she looked up at him, then asked in a small voice, “Please don't stop, Bull.”

He tilted his head at that and she gasped as she felt his thumb stroke firmly over her clit, his finger still fucking her, deep and fast. She swallowed, and in the same soft, uncertain voice, asked, “Again? Please?”

One corner of his mouth twitched up, and his thumb stroked over her clit twice more, side to side, as he murmured, “Good girl.”

She felt like she should be annoyed or offended at his words, but instead the intensity in his voice made her breath catch and she felt a little shudder run through her. He seemed to understand the effect he was having on her—even if she didn't—and his calmness as he met her breathless, confused stare was itself arousing.

“A— Again?” she managed, but now the hint of a smile faded and there was no tantalising brush of his thumb. He simply watched her, his single finger still thrusting fast, as if waiting. With a start she recalled her manners and added a belated, “Please?” A slight raise of his eyebrow and, unsure why she felt so chastened with just a look, she whispered, “Please, Bull, again? Please?”

He leaned back, resting on his knees now instead of looming over her, pulling her pinned wrist down with him and simply holding it tightly. He looked down at her pussy, legs still spread over his thighs, and finally his thumb brushed once against over her clit. She gasped at the unexpected sensation, bucking her hips slightly.

She licked her lips again, uncertain if she would have to ask every time she wanted to be touched. “Bull, please,” she said, in the same small voice. “I can't— I don't... _Please_.”

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked in the growl that throbbed low in her belly, looking back up at her.

“ _Yes_. Oh, please, Bull,” she pleaded, not really sure of anything any more except her burning need to have his hands on her, _in_ her.

“Tell me where you want me to touch you, Fenny,” he commanded and she realised that the script was the same as earlier, but now he was the one making the demands.

“I want you to touch my pussy, Bull,” she said softly, and added an uncertain, “Please,” just for good measure. She felt out of her depth, bewildered, but every time he spoke to her in that low, implacable rumble her desire for him grew.

“ _Where?_ ” He didn't use his thumb this time either; instead the finger inside her stroked up against her as it had last time and she involuntarily clenched down on him, her toes curling.

She nearly gasped at the force in his voice and quickly replied, “My clit, please touch my clit,” almost stumbling over the words, desperate to know if it was what he wanted to hear, desperate to be touched.

It was enough. He watched her intently as he did what she begged, thumb abruptly stroking rapidly back and forth and she shuddered under the sudden touch, whimpering and rocking against him, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure crashed into her. She heard him murmur “Good girl,” again, and her emotions were tangled at how good it made her feel to be praised. Her eyes opened again, seeking out his face. There was something reassuring about his controlled gaze, a feeling that he could guide her here even though she felt so lost. He was studying her, eye moving from the movements at her pussy—his thumb still busily at work, bringing her shivery swells of pleasure—and roaming over her body. She finally loosened her grip on his wrist and lifted her hand to lay it by her head, thrilling quietly at how he followed her movements. She realised how vulnerable and exposed she was; her legs spread open over his, her tits on display. She didn't mind nudity, was never self-conscious of her body, but the way he looked at her made her feel naked in a very different way. Stripped, laid bare and peeled open, every secret his for the taking.

Just the thought of it made her shudder hard on his pumping finger, gasping, her eyes squeezing closed and her legs tensing as a tremor ran through her.

“Do you want to come, Fenny?” The rolling bass of his voice made her tremble and her eyes shot back open.

“ _Please_ ,” she whimpered, gasping. “ _Please_ , _please, p_ — _please, please_ —”

Bull gave a strangled groan and then her wrist was released, a second finger was sliding into her—too deep, too fast, too much, but all of it _perfect_ —and his other fingers were stroking across her aching clit. She let out a choked wail, both her hands gripping the bed as she arched her back, her hips bucking and her ass bouncing on his spread thighs, and she didn't even have time to realise she was going to come before the orgasm was slamming through her, taking sound and sight and thought with it and leaving nothing but fire coursing through every nerve. The two fingers still deep within her became the centre of everything and even as she shook and cried out, she found herself wanting to beg him not to stop, _never_ to stop, stay _there_ , there forever and ever and let this please, _please_ not end.

  


She came down slowly, aftershocks still making her gasp and shudder, and through it all Bull kept his two fingers deep inside her. No longer thrusting so hard—just small, gentler strokes in and out, giving her something to push against, something for her grasping muscles to cling to. The fingers on her clit that had sent her over the edge had retreated, and now held her rocking hip firmly, while her widely-spread legs squeezed his sides, unable to reach around the big man. She opened her eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling and feeling the warmth tingle through her, tiny sparks still making her shiver when Bull's fingers moved inside her.

“Doing okay, Fen?” His voice was gentler now, the demanding growl gone.

She said nothing for a few moments as she tried to find her voice, then murmured, “I think so.” She felt tangled up in what had just happened, but whatever it was, it had felt _good_. _She_ felt good, warm and relaxed under his big hands. She turned her head with a sigh and looked at him, feeling oddly shy as she met his direct gaze.

He tilted his head and smiled slightly at her, his expression warm and nothing at all like the man who had pinned her down and made her beg for what she wanted. “Good to keep going?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she sighed at his touch and asked, “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

His smile widened, and his fingers began moving a little faster inside of her. “In a little bit,” he replied.

Fen hummed in lazy contentment. “Good,” she sighed, then smiled up at him. “You're in danger of overselling yourself, you know.”

He snorted, his fingers twisting a little inside her on every stroke. “I'm really not,” he said. His hand on her hip slid down to stroke along her spread thighs, rubbing them gently and massaging the taut muscles. “Your legs are gonna hate you tomorrow.”

“I can already tell,” she said, settling into his touch. “Worth it, though.” It was difficult to reach him where he kneeled between her legs, but she stretched out her arms and stroked her fingertips lightly over his stomach. “How are you doing? You've barely let me touch you at all.”

“I'm good,” he said without any hesitation and Fen frowned, unconvinced. “Qunari, remember?” he said, catching her eyes with a smile. “Self-denial's character building.”

She made a face at him. “Is it self-denial if _I'm_ the one who really wants to touch you?”

“Sure, means you're the one learning discipline. Might help keep you out of trouble,” he teased, and she could feel him probing her entrance with a third finger.

“Lack of self-control's the reason I kissed you in the first place,” she said, trying to relax as she felt him work the finger inside of her. “I think I'm winning.”

“And not following orders almost got you trapped in a garage full of demons before I could get you alone,” he pointed out, his third finger inside her to the first joint. “It's a risky approach.”

“You know me,” she swallowed, feeling herself stretching around him, and her voice rose as she spoke. “I like living on the edge.”

“There's risk,” he said, slowly pulling all three fingers out of her as she tried not to gasp in relief, “And there's getting yourself needlessly hurt.” He rubbed her mound gently for a moment before reaching around and pulling out a small plastic bottle from his back pocket.

Fen leaned up on her elbows to see him thumb open the lid and squeeze out something viscous and transparent onto his fingertips. “What're you doing?” she asked warily, her ears flicking back as he reached down and began rubbing it into her pussy. It was warm from the heat of his body, but didn't actually feel like much.

“You were getting a bit dry,” he answered, distractedly watching his fingers slide through her folds, and gently pushing one digit back inside her.

“Yeah, okay, but what the _fuck_ are you putting in me?” she asked, ears flat and squirming a bit at his touch.

“Lube,” he said, glancing up at her in surprise. “Don't tell me the Dalish don't use lube.”

She glared at him without any real rancour and said, “I don't know, you'd have to tell me what it _is_ first.”

He blinked, then shook his head. “Lubrication. It's. Uh. I don't know what they make it out of, but it'll help make you slippery again.” He reached out with the little bottle and said, “Here, give me your hand.”

She reached forward and he squeezed a couple of drops onto her fingertips, watching her even as he kept rubbing her pussy with his other hand, fingers drawing over her labia and lightly stroking across her clitoris. Fen rubbed her fingers together, feeling the slipperiness, then sniffed them and made a face. “Smells weird,” she murmured, then looked back up at him. “It won't do anything to me?”

“Nah, just keeps things nice and wet,” he reassured her, pouring more into his hand, and slipping the bottle back into his pocket as he gently worked his fingers back inside her. “Some kinds have flavours and crap, others make you warmer or numb. This is just plain stuff, though.”

She stared at him. “ _Flavours?_ People _drink_ it?”

He snorted with laughter at herexpression and shook his head. “Not like that. But if you're going down on someone anyway, a hint of banana can make things more interesting.”

“Oh.” She considered this, then asked, “You've had it with you all this time?”

“Yeah, grabbed it from supplies before we left.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Wait, you've been _scavenging_ sex stuff?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “With ten people all crammed together? Oh yeah. Something was gonna happen eventually.”

“That's... actually really practical,” she said thoughtfully, laying back down and wiping her still-wet fingers across her stomach. Bull had once again begun working his third finger back inside her while they talked, and whatever the stuff was it seemed to be helping. She still felt weirdly stretched, but the edge of pain she'd tried to ignore earlier was gone. The fingers on his left hand gently circled her clit, occasionally stroking over it and her labia, the stimulation helping her relax.

“Yeah. Someone's already been at the condoms,” he frowned, thoughtfully. “I'm pretty sure it's not Blackwall though, I never really mentioned we had them. Hope he and Clem aren't doing anything stupid.”

“What're they?” asked Fen, closing her eyes and stretching her arms above her head, thoroughly relaxed.

“What're what?” Bull's fingers worked into her deeper, fractionally closer to his knuckles with each slow thrust.

“That word you just said. You said someone had been taking stuff?”

“What, condoms?”

“Yeah.”

“You don't know what condoms are either?” he asked, and she felt his fingers pause.

“No. Should I?” She raised her head and looked blankly at him.

“They're like... Shit, I don't know. Rubbery things that go over your cock so you don't get whoever you're sleeping with pregnant.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Huh.”

“What do Dalish do instead?” asked Bull, curiously.

His fingers once again pushed into her, and she let out a sigh of enjoyment before asking, “Us? What, to not get pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged. “Nothing. We're supposed to get pregnant.”

It was his turn to stare at her. “Why?”

“Because they're aren't many of us left. Lots of babies means someone to pass our history down to. Most people get started when they're still teenagers, right after they're bonded.”

“Wait, so do you have kids?”

“Me?” She looked away from him, uncomfortable. “No.” She glanced back up with a small forced smile and added, “I'm not bonded either, if that would worry you.”

“Bonding is...?”

Fen felt relieved he hadn't pushed the subject, though she knew he was watching her carefully. “Sort of the same thing as shems getting married,” she answered.

“Good to know,” he said. “Either way, I'm pretty certain elves and Qunari can't have kids, and we're resistant to most other races' diseases, so I don't have any on hand to show you.”

“They sound kind of weird, anyway.”

“I guess they would.” He twisted his fingers inside her and she let out a small noise of approval. “Feel good?” he asked, fingers rubbing lightly across her clit.

“Mhmm,” she replied. “You're pretty talented with your hands, you know.”

“I try,” he murmured, watching her as he pumped his fingers into her again. “Want me to go a little faster?”

“Mm, sure.” Fen watched him pull out the little bottle again before letting her eyes close. She felt stretched open around his hand, a pleasant ache in her muscles that she would probably regret later, but which right now just felt deeply satisfying.

His fingers drew slowly out, and a moment later sank back into her, coated in more lube. She moaned at the re-entry, the feeling of being emptied and then being pushed into setting the nerves around her entrance tingling and the ache inside her throbbing. Both of his hands moved faster now, evidently more confident that he wouldn't hurt her. His fingers brushed across her clit rapidly, rubbing it constantly from side to side, the way she liked. His three fingers were much larger than anything else she had ever had inside her, and she felt herself grow even wetter at the thought that she was opening herself up for Bull, letting him do things to her that no one else could. The thought of him pushing deep into her, deeper than anyone else, made her shiver and rock against his fingers. Unable to touch Bull, her hands idly began running over herself as she thought about his fingers twisting inside her, excited at the idea of him finally sinking his cock into her. She rubbed lightly across her stomach and up to her breasts, cupping them and rubbing her thumbs over her nipples, teasing them and moaning quietly as she felt Bull twist his fingers and push deeper into her. She rocked against him again, running her fingernails over the slowly-hardening buds, plucking at them lazily, hardly paying attention to anything but his hands on her.

Bull seemed to be watching her, though. “You look incredible like that, Fen,” he said softly, stroking his fingers into her a little harder.

She gasped, eyes still closed and rocked back against him. “Feels amazing,” she murmured after a moment. “Feel so full, so good.” Her voice was half moan as he played with her clit and stroked upwards against her with his fingers. Her fingers twisted at her nipples, the extra sensation making her arch against him, and she distantly heard him groan through the haze of her own pleasure.

Then his wonderful fingers were pulling out of her and she mewled at the sudden feeling of emptiness, opening her eyes as he moved off the bed entirely. She leaned up on her elbows, asking, “Bull?”

“One sec,” he replied quietly, glancing at her as he pulled the lube out of his pocket and put it on the bedside table beside his cellphone before undoing his pants. Fen watched, deeply curious, as he pushed them down and turned back to kneel on the edge of the bed between her spread thighs.

“Oh,” she said, staring. “Um,” she said, sitting up. “Wow,” she said, scuttling backwards.

Bull's cock was the biggest one she'd ever seen that didn't come attached to a halla. It wasn't, um, _disproportionate_ to his body, it was just that his body was already... pretty big. Like his cock. Um. She saw immediately why he'd wanted to take his time, and absolutely definitely why he had put the lube within easy reach. She only kind of wished he'd taken the time to try _four_ fingers instead of just three.

“Fen?” he said, watching her carefully, still kneeling on the bed.

She hesitated for a moment before tearing her eyes off his groin and looking up to his face, realising she had backed away without meaning to. “I. Sorry. Just. _Wow_.”

He laughed softly, and moved from kneeling to sitting facing her, one leg outstretched, the other curled in front of him. “Having second thoughts?” he asked teasingly.

“No! No. It's just. I was surprised.” She swallowed, trying not to stare too much. He seemed perfectly relaxed and just watched her, unmoving, as she finally edged back towards him, settling by his curled up leg. He reached out his hand and brushed her tattooed cheek before moving down to rub her shoulder. It was soothing, and she licked her lips and asked, “Can I touch it?”

He laughed then, and her tension began to dissolve. She was being silly. He'd been with elves before, he knew what he was doing. And she still trusted him, even if— even if she didn't always understand what he did to her. Her emotions over the earlier incident were still confused, and she resolved to ask him about it later, but for now...

“You can absolutely touch my cock, Fen,” he said, obviously amused. “That's kind of the point, right?”

“Right. Dumb question.” She tentatively reached out her hand to grasp the shaft. It felt pretty much like every other erect cock she'd touched—firm and very warm, the soft skin moving over the hard flesh below—it was just that she didn't come close to being able to wrap her hand around it. More certain now, she pushed her tangled hair back over to one side and behind her ear, and wriggled forward to take his cock in both hands. Bull leaned back on one hand to watch, the other rubbing circles on her back. The shaft was also pretty long, but that wasn't nearly as intimidating as the girth and she wondered how he compared to other Qunari men. The base was nearly the same grey shade as the rest of him where it emerged from a tangle of dark curls, but it darkened along his length to the flared purplish-red head. His balls were as impressive as the rest of him, full and heavy and far more than a handful for her. She tried to grip him the way her other male lovers had liked, stroking along the sensitive underside, paying attention to where the head met the shaft, teasing around the hole at the tip where large beads of warm fluid were forming, but everything was made much more difficult by the sheer size of him in her small hands. She frowned in concentration, glancing up at his face to see if he was enjoying it. His eye was closed and he was breathing deeply, but every time her fingers skimmed over the underside of the broad head, he frowned minutely. She made certain to pay attention to that spot as her hands explored, thumb gently brushing across it over and over, and was rewarded with a groan and Bull suddenly leaning forward, tugging her hands off him, gripping them both in one fist. The hand on her back slid up to her hair and he grabbed a handful, tugging her head up for an urgent kiss, his tongue pushing deeply into her mouth. She squeaked, startled, before leaning eagerly towards him.

He pulled away after a minute, releasing her hair and leaving her panting slightly, and brought her captured hands up to his mouth, kissing each palm before saying, “Enough. Keep doing that and all my hard work will be for nothing.”

Fen watched him, licking her lips. Making him feel good had been fun and she was sorry to stop. If he gave her another chance, she thought, she'd very much like to finish. She felt she owed him quite a few orgasms at this point, after all.

He met her eyes and asked, “Still want to do this?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly, feeling the certainty well up in her. His cock was a little bit intimidating, but she was sure he wouldn't have spent hours making her comfortable and relaxed around him just to jam the damn thing into her all at once. “I really, _really_ still want to do this.”

He grinned at her and pulled her in for another kiss, slow and languid this time, before murmuring against her lips, “I'm going to make you feel _incredible_.” Releasing her, he rose onto his knees and shuffled up the bed, grabbing a couple of pillows and stacking them on top of each other a little way down the bed. “C'mere,” he said, turning and stretching a hand out to her. She took it in her own, and he drew her up to him, tugging her down onto the bed and laying her out with her ass resting high on the two stacked pillows, her head among the others. He touched her constantly as she got comfortable, rough hands stroking across her stomach and thighs, gently squeezing her breasts, all warmth and reassurance. Moving between her already-spread legs, he leaned up over her to kiss her on the lips and then the shoulder as he reached over and grabbed the lube, and Fen could feel the warm thickness of his cock brush her hip. He took his time moving back down, leaving a trail of little pecks all down her body, and she stroked his head with a murmur of contentment.

She was still very wet, but he was generous with the lube as he worked his three fingers back inside her, his other hand once more stroking over her pussy with occasional trips to glide along her thighs and stomach, seeming to enjoy the feel of her soft brown skin under his hands. It was easier to open her up this time and it wasn't long before she was rocking back against his fingers with little gasps, her eyes closed. It felt very good, yes, but her excitement was heightened by the thought that the next thing inside her would be his heavy, straining cock. The thought sent a shudder of pleasure through her, and she moaned loudly at the next long twisting stroke of his fingers. A couple of lingering strokes later, and Bull was pulling his fingers out of her and grabbing the lube. She couldn't see what he was doing from the angle she was lying, but she couldguess, and she reminded herself to breathe deeply. He wouldn't hurt her, he'd stop if she asked him to, he'd— He was sliding the slippery, warm head of his cock against her pussy, and she almost stopped breathing when she felt the blunt breadth of it between her lips. She stared at him, wide-eyed, and when he glanced up he frowned and stroked her stomach again with one hand.

“Fen,” he said quietly, “It's okay if you want to stop.”

She sucked in a breath and shook her head. For all her nervousness she wanted this, wanted _him_. She swallowed, trying to concentrate on her breathing and the warmth of him between her legs. He watched her for a long moment, his cock still sliding along her mound, brushing over her clit, gently nuzzling her entrance without making any attempt to push in to it. Then his fingers were rubbing across her clit and she arched up with a gasp, the sensation sudden but very welcome. He kept rubbing her with one hand as the head of his cock slid back down to her entrance and began to push against her. It didn't hurt, and she tried to focus on the way his fingers rubbed her gently, constantly, and the warm pressure growing inside her. It didn't hurt, she reminded herself, refusing to think about how aching large it looked in her hands and instead concentrating on how good it felt as Bull slowly worked it inside her. He moved his hips in short, slow thrusts, nudging his cock only slightly deeper each time, just the way he had with his fingers. It was definitely thicker than his fingers had been, but not by much, and while he took his time entering her, his fingers were still steadily working at her clit and stroking down across her labia. He wasn't touching her with his other hand, and she assumed it must be guiding his cock into her. She thought of how she must look from his point of view—spread out below him, her hips tilted up as if in offering to him, hair fanned out over the pillows and hands tangled in the bedspread while his long, unbearably thick shaft slowly disappeared into her pink pussy, stretched tight around him. She gasped and looked up at him. He was staring down at her pussy and she wondered if the sight appealed to him as much as seeing him looming up between her legs appealed to her, his expression absorbed as his eye was fixed on her most private place, now spread wide for him.

Another short thrust and she gasped, hips rolling as she felt the flare of his cock head push into her, now fully embraced by her clasping pussy. His eye closed for a moment and he moaned softly at her movement, taking his hand off his cock and wrapping it around her hip. He thrust again, and it was her turn to gasp, feeling him sink even deeper within her. His fingers had tapered, but his cock was thick all along the length, and the broad head was stretching her differently than his hand had. It... It wasn't _bad_ , but the stretch, the _fullness_ she had felt from his fingers was incomparable to how she felt now. She thought she could feel every ridge, every vein on his cock as her pussy clung so unbearably tight around him. The thought of it made her shudder again, her muscles contracting around him in a rolling wave, and then _again_ as she gasped at the sensation of her pussy trying to clamp down on something so large.

Bull groaned and swore as he felt her grip and release his cock, his fingers squeezing her hip painfully tight, and he thrust into her again, a little harder than he had before.

Fen cried out, “Gods, _Bull,_ ” as she felt him drive further in, making her shudder around him again, her legs shaking at the overwhelming swell of him inside her as her fingers dug into the bedspread.

He held himself still for a moment, breathing hard as they both tried to regain their composure. Fen had no idea how much of his cock was inside her now. It could have been a couple of inches or a couple of feet, what mattered was that she felt filled to bursting with him and still wanted more. It didn't hurt, she marvelled. He was _inside_ her, pushing deeper, filling up every empty part of her and _it didn't hurt._ And she wanted so much _more_.

“Bull, _please_ ,” she pleaded and he looked up at her, his face set, jaw clenched, and she realised how much he was holding himself back and how little she wanted him to. “Please,” she begged. “Please don't stop now.”

His eye closed as he swallowed and his hand clamped harder onto her hip before he nudged forward again. Fen couldn't stop herself from rocking her hips against him this time and Bull let out a loud moan as she responded to him, and she felt him shiver against her. And then he really was pushing into her, not in little thrusts but a single, long deep stroke that made her back arch, her toes curl and left her wailing his name in pleasure. She'd been wrong, she thought vaguely. She hadn't been full before, hadn't felt stretched open before. This, _this_ was being filled. This was was being stretched open, pulled apart from the inside, impaled like a goat on a spit. She felt like her entire body was shifting, reshaping itself around Bull's cock as he buried himself inside her. She didn't realise she was chanting his name over and over until he pulled back and pushed firmly back into her again, when she almost choked on the words as she moaned loudly. His hand was still working on her clit, but not even that could distract her from the swollen intruder that had become her entire world. She rocked helplessly against him, unable to stop herself, full but still wanting _more_ , more of his warmth, his heaviness pushing into her, spreading her open for him. She didn't want him to stop, didn't _ever_ want him to stop, never wanted the delicious tautness in her belly, the ache in her thighs and the pressure against every part of her to ever, _ever_ stop.

“Fen, _fuck_ , _Fen_ _ny_ ,” she heard him gasp, and then he was moving, really moving, thrusting into her and pulling back and thrusting _again_ , rocking right back against her hips, pulling her against him as her legs vainly tried to wrap around him and pull him even closer in turn. She wailed again, beyond words now, beyond anything but sensation as her head thrashed from side to side and her hands fisted into the bedspread. Every time she rocked into him he pushed right back, and every time he still sank a little deeper inside her, leaving them both gasping. She wanted to beg him to fuck her, to really _fuck_ her, to leave her breathless and sobbing and _full_ of him, but she couldn't find the words, couldn't find the breath, could only gasp at every withdrawal and wail at every thrust, her hips rolling against him, her pussy clinging desperately to his cock. One hand released its grip on the bed and she reached up at him, groping blindly until she found his hand on her hip, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist, hanging on for dear life as another deep thrust made her cry out. She couldn't speak, could only try to pull him closer, try to push her hips up to meet him, try to _show_ him what she wanted.

She heard his throaty moan as she held onto him, writhing against him, and then he was moving, just as if she'd told him everything she wanted to say. Thrusting into her faster, holding onto her tighter, his fingers dancing across her clit and through the haze of her need she heard him speaking to her between panting breaths, “Come for me, Fenny. Come on my cock. Let me feel you. Want to feel you come. Want to _fuck_ you, Fenny. Want to fuck you _hard_ , want to make you _come_.” His voice was gravelly with desire, his demands everything she wanted to do, everything she wanted to feel, and she felt herself sobbing his name as he buried himself inside of her again and again and again so deep so full so much of _him,_ and she _wanted_ to come for him, wanted to make him come in _her_ and the last thought was enough to send her wailing into the shattering, pulsing, pounding throes of her climax. She shuddered and clenched around the cock still thrusting deep within her, the unstoppable rhythm sending her into another crashing wave of pleasure, pussy stretched to its limits and still trying to clench down on him, every muscle in her body taut, teeth gritted and head thrown back, and all she could feel was him, just _him_ , _all_ of him, filling her up, pushing out every unnecessary thought or unneeded feeling until it was just his cock inside her, breaking her apart and putting her back together again with every thrust.

She couldn't do anything, say anything, just gasp for breath and ride the waves of pleasure, so when Bull held her by both hips and pulled her hard against him, all she could do was moan, too weak to even push back against him. It wasn't needed. He wasn't holding back now, thrusting deeply, pushing his entire length into her in long, pounding strokes, all restraint lost. She tried to hold onto the bed but she had no strength left in her limbs, and all she could do was stare up at him, eyes glazed and face flushed, whimpering and moaning at each bruising thrust. His eye was closed, head tilted back in pleasure as he pulled her entire body back and forth against him, tilting her hips up to meet his as he pushed into her as deeply as he could, _using_ her to pleasure himself. Fen was almost breathless from his punishing strokes, but just the sight of him—massive arms flexing as he held her tight, hips slamming into her, sweat gleaming on his scarred skin as he took her hard and fast—was enough to make her swallow hard and gasp out, “Gods, _fuck_ me, Bull. _Please_ , fuck me.”

He groaned loudly at her words, and she felt him shudder as he pulled her hard against him. She whimpered again, then choked out, “Fill me. _Please_. Fuck me,” between thrusts that made her gasp. “Just. _Take_ me. _Please_. Fuck. _Fuck_ me. _Bull_. _Fuck me._ ”

He growled, eye snapping open as he looked down at her and then he was _on_ her, covering her body with his, arms wrapping around her and pulling her against her chest as his wide hips slammed down hard against hers, forcing her thighs back against the bed. He took his weight on his arms so that he wasn't crushing her, but his thrusts were so much harder, so much _deeper_ now that she wailed again, clutching at his broad chest with arms that were pinned against him. He rocked deep against her, burying his face in her hair as he growled out, “Fen, _Fen_ _ny_ , gonna come. Gonna come in you. Fill your little pussy.” And then his growls turned into a wordless roar as he slammed his hips down one last time and held himself deep inside her, rocking, grinding into her as she felt him shudder against her. Warmth spread through her belly and she sobbed into his shoulder as she felt him come inside her, the thought of it, the feel, making her tremble in pleasure even while her thighs and breasts ached from being crushed against him.

Arms still pinned, she couldn't touch him the way she wanted, so she nuzzled into his shoulder instead, kissing his warm, sweaty skin and murmuring his name between little gasps. He was breathing hard, his fingers digging into her sides, and she felt him shudder against her. It almost hurt to be held against him like this, barely able to move, but at the same time it made her ache in a different way. He was clinging to her like she was the only thing in the world, wrapping himself around her just as she was still wrapped around his cock, completely enfolded in the warm pressure of each other. She let out a long, trembling breath, cheek pressed against his warm grey skin.

The thought made her feel good, but as they lay still against each other, catching their breath, she was becoming more and more aware that, okay, yeah, her thighs really _were_ beginning to ache. She nuzzled into his neck and murmured, “Bull?” and got a low groan in response, his head buried in a pillow, his chin by her temple. So she headbutted him gently, murmuring, “Kinda squished here, Bull.”

He grunted again, and then was pushing himself up onto on his elbows and his softening cock was pulling slowly out of her as he took his weight back onto his knees. They both gasped at the withdrawal, and Fen felt a flood of liquid warmth follow it a moment after. She was too relieved to have the weight off her hips and thighs to really care though, and groaned as she repositioned her legs, her muscles tender. Bull was still leaning over her, her body in his arms, but she was no longer crushed to his chest and she could move her arms again. She rose up a little to kiss his jaw, murmuring, “Thank you,” as her hands drifted up his sweaty sides and across his chest to stroke along his face.

He leaned back down to kiss her forehead with a groan, replying, “Thank _you,_ ” before pulling away entirely, letting go of her and rolling to the side. They lay side by side in silence for a minute as they gathered themselves, then Fen stretched slowly—arms above her head, feet and calves straining as she arched her back—feeling her body protesting at the movements. “That,” she said lazily, “was _good_.”

Bull tilted his head to watch her, as far as his horns would let him. “ _Good_ _?_ ” he asked, mock hurt in his voice.

“Yeah,” replied Fen. “Pretty good.” She collapsed back, clasping her hands together on her stomach and looked at him with a grin.

He snorted, and reached out to rest a hand on her thigh, squeezing slightly. “I'll have to try harder next time,” he said.

Fen's grin widened at that, delighted at the suggestion of a second round with him. “In that case, I might have to borrow some of the Chargers' body armour.”

He pulled his hand away and leaned up on his elbow to look her over, raising an eyebrow. “You're probably right,” he answered, and reached over to run his hand over her far hip. “Those're gonna be some impressive bruises tomorrow.”

Fen tried to sit up to look, but gave up after a moment and flopped back. “I'll take your word for it.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his hand gliding up to rest on her ribs below her breast, thumb stroking over her soft skin.

Fen stared up at the ceiling. “I'm pretty sure that if I stand up I'm going to leave a puddle,” she said thoughtfully, then paused for a moment before adding, “but I'm not actually sure I _can_ stand up.” She looked back at him, one corner of her lips curving up into a smile, “But I don't think there are any internal injuries, if that's what you mean.”

Bull laughed, and leaned down to press a kiss to her shoulder before pushing himself up with a groan and climbing off the bed. “I'll see what I can do,” he promised and disappeared into the bathroom.

Fen stared at the ceiling some more, just luxuriating in the warm glow and trying to ignore the wetness slowly beginning to ooze out of her. After a minute she turned to look at the still-lit candles, and wondered how long it had been since she woke. At _least_ a couple of hours, she estimated, but she felt more than ready to fall back asleep. She stared at the flames, her mind drifting, until the bathroom door opened again to the sound of the toilet cistern refilling and Bull came back out, a wash cloth in his hand. He sat beside her and nudged her legs apart before laying the damp cloth over her mound. She sighed at the sudden coolness on her skin and the way Bull carefully wiped the rough fabric over her tender pussy. Her hand drifted down and stroked his forearm affectionately, and she murmured, “Thank you.”

He smiled at her and kissed her raised knee before asking, “Wanna try getting up?”

She groaned but nodded, and stretched out both arms to him. “Yeah, I gotta piss. Pull me up?”

He gripped her hands and tugged her into a sitting position, where she groaned again and arched her back, feeling her spine click. She stood, legs wobbly and aching, pressing the wash cloth over her pussy as she felt a sudden _gush_ and glared at Bull. “This is all _your_ fault,” she said, and tottered awkwardly into the bathroom to the sound of his laughter.

When she emerged a while later, the bedspread had been balled up and tossed into one corner, and Bull lay naked on the bed with the sheets pulled down. He was propped up on a few pillows, just as she'd seen him sleep back at the garage, and had one arm over his face. “Still awake?” she asked softly, leaning against the door frame.

“Mm, yeah. Mostly,” he replied, lifting his arm and cracking open his eye.

“Want me to blow out the candles?” she asked.

“Yeah. If you can do it without falling over,” he said, grinning lazily.

She wrinkled her nose at him and muttered, “Bastard,” as she hobbled over to the table.

  


Fen sighed with relief when she finally settled on the bed beside Bull, gladly resting her aching legs. She curled up next to him, back to his propped-up side, and buried her face into her pillow. She was sore and exhausted and—as she'd seen when she'd glanced in the bathroom mirror—bruised like crap, but she felt satisfied right down in her bones and more relaxed than she'd been since she left her clan months before. Bull casually draped an arm around her, and she lightly rested one hand on it in a silent gesture of gratitude. Tomorrow would bring its own set of challenges—trying to walk properly sprung to mind—but for now it was enough to be safe and content and with someone she could count on at her back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A good friend drew a fan comic of this fic, and you can check it out [right here](http://meagkhan.tumblr.com/post/131291790499).


End file.
